Snape flew over to Hermione. Harry was just about to join him when Snape barked:

”Make yourself useful and begin.”

A part of Harry wanted to protest but he couldn't. He had heard something odd in Snape's voice. The command didn't hold the same amount of venom as he was used to from the man. If Harry didn't know better he'd say Snape sounded concerned. He took one of the roots and glanced at Snape. Hermione was whimpering softly and Snape had lifted her head once again was giving her the potion. Harry wondered if Hermione was getting worse – it most certainly hadn't been a full hour and had Snape not said that she needed the potion once every hour?

”Hush, Miss Granger. I know it's unpleasant but if you can manage this it'll soon be over,” he heard Snape tell her.

Harry began chopping up the roots and tried his best to be quiet about it. He didn't want to bother Hermione with any loud noises. Had it not been the professor's yelling that had woken her? Still, he glanced up at the scene as often as he dared to.

Snape had finally succeeded in getting most of the potion in Hermione – most of it. Quite a bit was now on her face and the professors hands.

”Lie back down, Miss Granger,” he instructed calmly.

The woman in his arms only grabbed him tighter and tried to shake her head.

”Help,” said a small voice.

Harry ceased chopping and listened. Snape paused and starred at the Lily-imposter. He almost looked... surprised? No, that wasn't it.

”I am helping you, Miss Granger. You will be fine. You need to rest now,” Snape replied.

He gentle attempted to push Hermione back down on the cot.

”Please, help me,” Hermione whimpered.

She doesn't know who she's talking to, does she?

Harry wasn't actually sure whether she did, but something much more terrifying caught his attention. Snape's face had become drained of all colour and the man looked as it he was either dying himself or had just had all his robed turned permanently pink.

Oh, no! He isn't going to faint again, is he? What am I going to do?

”Miss... Granger... You really must...” the professor finally replied as if he was in great pain.

Shit! He is! He really is!

But Harry was wrong.

”I don't want to die. Help me,” Hermione whispered as her muscles relaxed and she finally fell back down onto her pillow.

Snape wasn't moving.

Then he slowly began to back up and finally slumped into the chair behind his desk – he face pale, his eyes shut and his breathing ragged.

*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*

Broken.

That was the only word to describe it. The walls had taken ages to build. Every metaphorical stone had been an effort and now the result of Severus' labor lay in ruins. His mental walls came down as he didn't have the strength nor determination to maintain them.

In an odd way he felt relief. It was as if something had been pushing the walls ever since that dreadful moment when he first awoke to find Potter crying and the glamoured Granger lying on the floor beside him. He hadn't know what it was. He hadn't had the time to address it. He had only focused on dealing with Granger and Potter.

Now the walls were down and he felt the suppressed emotions wash over him like a flood. Anger was an emotion he attempted to school but otherwise didn't completely banish to the walled corners of his mind. Fear was another thing entirely. Shame. Despair. Sorrow.

Isn't it enough? Isn't it enough that I have to see you every night in my dreams? That I have to find your body all over again? Must you come back to accuse me? Here? Now? Don't you think I know? Will I ever be sorry enough? I deserve it. I know I do.
What a cruel joke. I didn't even know you had it in you. In front of your son too. No, that was wrong of me. Forgive me, Lily. I was wrong. Forgive me.

A part of him wanted this to be her revenge. Then at least he knew she was still with him in some way and not lost forever. He wouldn't hate her for it. He could never hate her. If it was her punishment he would take it. Another part of him told him he was being silly. Lily was dead. She was gone. This was nothing but the result of the misadventures of two unruly second years. She was gone. It was his fault.

”Professor!”

The voice sounded distant but it forced him to abandon those thoughts.

”Professor, are you alright?”

There it was again.

”Potter,” Severus muttered.

He couldn't deal with him at the moment. Not until he had regained control over his emotions. Severus knew the last thing he needed right now was to show Potter just how affected he was.

”Sir! You're not fainting, are you?” Potter inquired.

The boy's voice was full of concern. Severus groaned and opened his eyes. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

”Get back to work, Potter. I'm fine.”

He heard the boy move around but he was far to occupied to look at him. Slowly he began raising the walls again. It was a painful process as he could still feel the emotions. He struggled to regain some measure of control. It wasn't perfect but it would have to do until he had a quiet moment to himself to repair the remaining damage.

What do you want me to do? If you could only tell me?

There were no gods in Severus' life. The was only Lily and the hope that she wasn't completely lost. That some trace of her remained. His thoughts momentarily went to the boy but he pushed them aside. No, that was James, returned from the dead to torture him. Or was it Lily's revenge? Surely the boy couldn't be both.

It had to stop. It had to stop now. What was he thinking? Why couldn't he let go? No, he wanted to keep Lily alive but now the memory was too painful. He would be reduced to a sobbing wreck by the end of the night – he was sure of it. After all his shields had fallen hadn't they? He raised his hands and rubbed his temples. He felt like a hippogriff was kicking the inside of his skull. He hid his face in his hands for a few seconds and he tried to steady himself but stopped when he realized his hands were wet.

Am I... Crying?

Severus couldn't believe it. In fact he stared at his hands in disbelief until he remembered that this was neither the time nor place to allow himself to be surprised. His shields had fallen. This was only a natural reaction. Still, it had been so long since he had cried. He remembered the exact night. It was almost foreign to him.

If Severus needed any more evidence to persuade him to take action, this was it. He rose from his chair with determination. The professors glanced briefly at the boy who was sitting a the smaller desk attempting to work or so he assumed. He starred at Lily's body for a moment as it lay on the cot. Granger was breathing heavily but she looked somewhat peaceful.

Severus raised his wand and pointed it at her before he spoke:

”Finite Incantatem!”

The girl moaned and trembled as her body changed before his eyes. The red hair became brown and her limps became shorter. Now the face changed and before long the girl lying in front of the potions master was unmistakably Granger the Gryffindor know-it-all and no trace of Lily was left.

Severus sighed with relief.

”You could do that?” a voice shrieked next to him.

”You said you couldn't do that!”

There was no mistaking the anger in Potter's voice. Severus turned to find that the boy had left the desk and was now coming towards him.

”Potter, not now. I can't...” he began.

”But... You told me you couldn't do that, professor!” Potter continued.

”I shouldn't have told you that... I'm.. sorry,” Severus replied.

What was he saying? Maybe it was the headache talking.

”I don't understand,” the boy said quietly and studied Severus as if he was a strange insect.

The potions master sighed.

”I will try my best to explain then.”

The boy nodded but looked as though he had a very had time believing anything coming out of Severus' mouth. The dark man looked away. The green eyes held too much accusation for him to face them right now. Then his eyes fell on the cutting board on the desk.

His mouth was twitching as he tried to suppress a smile. However, a snort escaped him followed by what almost sounded like chuckling.

”Oh, gods above!” the professor smiled – now audibly holding back laughter.

The boy starred at him, eyes wide in shock.

”Professor? Are... Are you okay?”

The concern in the child's voice was evident.

He thinks I've lost my mind!

”Potter,” the man began amused.

”You never cease to amaze me!”

Severus covered his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter. It was absurd! He was absurd! Of all things to notice.

”S...Sir? Did I do something?” the boy inquired.

”You chopped the roots!” Severus said into his hand.

”Yes? Sir?”

The boy was visibly confused.

”I told you to slice them!” the professor laughed.

*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*

He's gone completely nuts!

Harry didn't think he'd ever be thinking this but at the moment he almost wished Snape would stop laughing and yell at him! At least he knew how to deal with that. He never even imagined Snape could laugh. There was something different about him now though. Even despite pointing out Harry's mistake he didn't seem to be laughing at him. Not like Vernon or Dudley did. Or Malfoy. No, the professor just seemed strangely amused. As if he finally got a joke.

”I'm sorry,” Harry tried and looked at the man with curiosity.

”All this mess,” Snape mused. ”Because you lost a picture.”

”I'm sorry,” Harry repeated. ”I knew my aunt wouldn't like it, I should have been more careful.”

Snape narrowed his eyes at that.

”What do you mean? Sit, Potter. Explain.”

His voice was stern but Harry could hear no malice in it. The strange animosity – strange even for Snape, that had been there since he woke him had vanished.

”Sir?” Harry inquired as he pulled over his chair and sat. Snape simple gestured for him to begin talking. When Harry didn't Snape spoke:

”I thought you lost the picture in your dormitory?”

”No, sir.”

”At your relatives' house then?”

”I didn't lose it, sir. I just forgot it.”

Snape raised an eyebrow.

”Forgot it?”

”On my bed.”

”Then surely you can retrieve it when you return or have your relatives mail it to you? Surely, all this wasn't necessary?”

”I can't,” Harry replied and studied his shoes.

”And why is that?”

Snape sounded a bit impatient and Harry decided it was best not to ruin his good mood – even if that was strange in the first place.

”My aunt found it. She... She...”

Harry could feel the tears coming again as he remembered the incident.

”Yes?”

”She burned it, sir.”

Silence.

”She what?” he heard Snape say.

What if he doesn't believe me? He never believes me!

”I'm not lying,” Harry quickly defended himself.

”Did you hear me accuse you of lying, Potter?” Snape replied. ”Look at me.”

Harry didn't want to but he raised his eyes to meet Snape's.

”Why?”

Snape sounded like he really, truly had no idea.

”She doesn't like my mother, sir,” Harry explained.

”I know,” the professor mumbled as he studied Harry.

”You know?” Harry asked, shocked.

The professor suddenly grimaced as he'd just said something he shouldn't and then shook his head in exhaustion.

”Mr Potter. I knew her – your mother and your... aunt.”

He spat out the last word as is it tasted foul. Harry's eyes went wide. His hands flew up and cowered his mouth in horror as he realized that Snape knew. He knew the entire time. Harry didn't know if he should feel ashamed about that and the lies he had told Snape or be shocked that Snape knew his mother. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't picture that! And even more important! If Snape knew his mother why hadn't he told him before? Why hadn't anyone told him?

”Excuse me?” Harry said, unknowingly imitating Snape.

The professor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

”I realize you may have some questions,” the potions master began.

”I bloody well do!” Harry confirmed.

He wasn't angry. He was confused.

”Never the less,” Snape continued, rolling his eyes at Harry's choice of words.

”I also have a few questions for you. Now as much as I'm sure you'd like to quiz me all night, I'm afraid we don't have that luxury.”

”But you knew my mother?”

”Yes, Potter, I just told you!”

”But... Why didn't you say anything?” Harry said, narrowing his eyes.

”Do I strike you as the sort of person, who talks about their private life to anyone who will listen?”

”No, sir! It just thought you could have said something.”

”Perhaps,” the professor mused.

”Can you... Can you tell me about her?” Harry mumbled.

”Hmm? Haven't your relatives told you about her?”

”No, sir. Well, yes, sir. But then I found out it wasn't true. What they said.”

”Professor McGonagall then? Professor Dumbledore?”

”People only talk about my father, sir. All they ever say about mum is that I have her eyes.”

Snape paused for a moment and looked as if he was considering something.

”I see,” he stated. ”Potter, Granger will need at least two more doses. I suggest we save this conversation for when you join me here tomorrow.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and bit his lip. He'd completely forgotten about that.

”Sir, will Hermione get detentions too? I don't mind a whole week but Hermione would be devastated!”

”You don't have detention, Potter. Either of you,” Snape smirked.

What? Surely he hasn't changed his mind?

”But sir? You said I should come tomorrow?”

Snape got up from the chair and walked over to Hermione, who, Harry noticed, had finally stopped drooling orange fluid.

”Call it a detention if you like, Mr Potter, just be here a seven.”

Harry just starred at the man.

”I don't understand,” the boy replied.

”Didn't you ask me to tell you about your mother? Don't make me changed my mind,” sneered the professor.

”I'm tired. I need to brew that potion. See yourself back to Gryffindor Tower.”

Harry got up and walked over to the others.

”But professor, you said...”

”I know what I said. Just do as you're told,” the great bat sighed as he moved his wand over Hermione.

”Your little friend will be joining you in the morning. Now go to bed and come see me tomorrow.”

Harry wasn't sure what to make of it. Was Snape actually doing something for him? It seemed too good to be true. He walked over to his bag and picked it up from the floor. Harry turned and looked back at Hermione.

”Will she really be okay?”

”Yes, I'll work faster without you here.”

Harry nodded even though he knew Snape wasn't looking at him and went to the door.

”Potter.”

The low silky voice stopped Harry dead in his track. Had Snape changed his mind? He could her footsteps coming towards him and he turned to see Snape standing in front of him.

”You had better have this back,” Snape explained and pulled something out of some hidden pocket in his robe. Harry reached out his hand and Snape handed him a piece of paper. No, it wasn't a piece of paper. It was a photograph. Harry turned it and recognized it as the one they had used for the spell.

”I trust you won't do it again,” Snape said, his voice suddenly stern.

”No, sir. I promise.”

Harry smiled and put the picture into the bag.

”I'll see you tomorrow then.”

”Yes. Goodnight, professor,” Harry said and opened the door.

He stepped out into the hallway and before the door closed behind him he heard a familiar voice.

”Goodnight, Harry.”